


The Cherished One

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Blood and Gore, Bloodplay, Daddy Kink, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, Parent/Child Incest, Serial Killers, Slytherin Harry, Torture, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-04-29 15:35:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5132891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Voldemort chose not to kill Harry that night in Godric’s Hollow, and decided to raise him instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cherished One

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, look at that warning list. Thank you to the mods for putting up a Dark Fest - we need more Dark fics.

Harry Riddle was a strange boy.

He was in Slytherin, mainly solitary, and had a child-like demeanour despite being sixteen. 

Harry was the adopted son of the Minister for Magic, Tom Riddle - otherwise known as Lord Voldemort - and was very beautiful, with his small stature, big green eyes, and thick black hair.

It was partly for those reasons that Cormac wished to date Harry. He had heard on the grapevine that Harry was easy in bed, too, but that would just be an added bonus. But mainly, dating Harry would no doubt get Cormac an audience with Harry’s father, who he could then dazzle with his charm and charisma in order to secure himself a good position in the Ministry after he graduated in the summer.

He had been flirting with Harry for a few days now, but Harry still hadn’t made a move on him - which was strange because normally nobody could resist Cormac once he showed interest in them.

He was almost considering being the one to make the first move for a change when he ran into the object of his desires in a corridor. 

Harry was sat on a ledge by a window, his knees pulled up to his chest. He seemed quite upset, which was good because the sad ones tended to fall into bed quicker.

“Hello,” he announced loudly, drawing Harry’s attention to him. “Is everything alright?”

“Not really,” Harry sniffed. “Draco was meant to go to a party with me, but he cancelled to go out with Pansy instead.”

“Oh?” Cormac said, interest piqued. “What a shame. Was the party tonight?”

Harry nodded. “Don’t you think I’m prettier than Pansy? What’s so special about her? All I wanted was to go to the party.”

How could Cormac resist an opportunity like this?

“I’d be happy to accompany you, if you’d still like to go,” he said, and Harry’s face lit up with a wide smile. “You’re definitely far better looking than that Pansy girl.”

Harry slid off the ledge and walked to Cormac, linking their hands together.

“Oh, I’d love to go with you,” he beamed. “I know a wonderful party game; you’ll be _dying_ to play it once I tell you what it is.”

***

“Daddy?”

Harry poked his head through the door of Voldemort’s chambers, grinning when he saw the man in question. Voldemort was sat on his Lord’s Chair, and he lowered the book he was reading when he heard Harry approach.

“Should you not be at school, Harry?” Voldemort asked, an amused smirk curling his lips. 

“I’ve got a new toy,” Harry informed his father. “I wanted to play with you.”

To show what he meant, Harry stepped into the room and tugged hard at the chain he was holding. A shirtless Cormac stumbled behind him, making a noise of distress as Harry forced him to his knees on the floor.

“That’s the second one this week, precious,” Voldemort chided gently. “Maybe you should take more care of your toys.”

“But they’re just so fun to break, Daddy,” Harry retorted, waving his wand toward the ceiling to lower the chains that were waiting there.

He attached the manacles around Cormac’s wrists, and sent the chains back up to the ceiling. The movement forced Cormac to stand again, the chains pulling him taut until his body was strained, standing on his toes. Cormac shook his head violently, making muffled sounds of protest.

“What’s wrong with him?” Voldemort enquired curiously, setting his book aside. “I take it it’s your doing?”

Harry noddd, grinning widely. “Cormac’s not a very nice talker. He was saying some _horrible_ things, so I cut out his tongue. Are you mad at me, Daddy?”

Harry crossed the room to his father, settling himself on Voldemort’s lap and throwing his arms around the back of his neck.

“I could never be mad at you, sweetness,” Voldemort breathed, grasping Harry’s hips as he lowered his head to kiss him. 

Cormac broke into a string of groans, the chains jingling as he fought against them.

“Will you shut up?!” Harry hissed, tearing his mouth away from Voldemort and turning his head to glare at Cormac. 

Harry slid off Voldemort’s lap, who stood up to follow Harry as he crossed the room.

Cormac’s eyes widened as Harry pulled his knife out again, the blade still bloodied from where it had hacked off Cormac’s tongue. Cormac screamed as best as he could when Harry drove the knife into the top of his chest, tears spilling from his eyes as the knife drew a jagged line across his body. 

“You know,” Harry said conversationally as he pulled the knife back and ran his tongue along the flat side of the blade, tasting the coppery liquid. “My father wants me to use magic more often, but I love how much more personal we get when I use a knife.”

“Knives are so Muggle; so mundane,” Voldemort commented lightly, shoving Harry aside to stand in front of Cormac.

Voldemort titled his head slightly as he studied Harry’s toy, and he smiled cruelly as he pressed three of his fingers into the fresh wound on Cormac’s chest, his sharp nails tearing the cut even more.

Cormac was sobbing heavily now, but Harry barely noticed as his father pressed his bloodied fingers to Harry’s lips, smearing the blood across his mouth, cheeks, and chin. 

Harry smiled, looking up at Voldemort through his lashes. Voldemort drew Harry close to him, leaning down to kiss him again.

Voldemort’s tongue lapped at the blood on Harry’s face, while deft fingers made work of Harry’s trousers, undoing the buttons and releasing Harry’s rapidly hardening cock.

Voldemort sank to his knees, taking Harry’s length into his mouth eagerly. Harry had always loved this present from his father, and had been very keen when he was finally asked to reciprocate quite some time ago now. It was the best way for father and son to show their love, Voldemort had told him, and as Harry was adopted he had to work extra hard to prove it. 

Harry locked eyes with Cormac’s horrified ones, and he gave him a bright smile along with a wink. 

Voldemort pulled his mouth away from Harry’s ock, standing as he cast a spell to vanish Harry’s clothes. 

A spell of Harry’s own sent Cormac falling to the floor as the manacles opened, and Harry forced him onto his back before climbing onto him, straddling his hips.

Harry pressed the knife between Cormac’s lips, pressing the blade into the very corner of his mouth.

“This is the best part of the game,” he whispered, leaning down close to Cormac as a wet finger pressed into Harry’s hole. “Daddy's always been so good at this.”

Cormac whimpered, closing his eyes, and Harry pressed a soft kiss to his lips while Voldemort added another finger, moving them deftly in and out of Harry.

“Don’t look so sad,” Harry said, pressing the blade upwards to tear at the skin by Cormac’s lips. “I like my toys to smile.”

Large hands grasped Harry’s hips as Voldemort pressed his cock to Harry’s entrance. The knife tore further up Cormac’s face as Voldemort pressed inside him, burying himself in his son.

“Fuck, Daddy! Harder!” Harry cried, forgetting his toy as Voldemort built up a steady pace, slamming into him furiously.

Harry drove the knife to the other side of Cormac’s mouth, almost on autopilot as he closed his eyes and shouted out for more.

“Fuck me, Daddy, fuck me,” he chanted, relishing in the friction of the knife and the fullness inside him. Having his father fuck him always made Harry feel safe and loved.

“You’re holding me so tight, precious,” Voldemort breathed, his hands gripping Harry so very tight and secure now. “What a good boy you are, doing this for your father. Are you ready to come?”

Harry nodded, pulling the knife from Cormac’s mouth and holding it above his neck. Voldemort’s pace quickened, his thrusts rough and furious as Harry felt his release building up.

As it reached its peak, Harry slammed the knife down into Cormac’s neck, then raised it and slammed it down again, over and over as he came. Warm blood sprayed his body, and the light in Cormac’s eyes faded quickly until it was gone completely.

Voldemort stiffened as he spilled his own release inside Harry, pulling out and leaving Harry sore.

“I think I killed him, Daddy,” Harry murmured, sliding off Cormac to stand. 

Voldemort smiled; he always loved to see Harry debauched, and covered in blood.

A flick of his wand had Harry re-clothed. “You need to learn some control, sweetness. You can find far more enjoyment if you draw out the suffering. Go and get yourself another toy, precious; Daddy will be waiting.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to comment here, on [livejournal](http://hp-darkarts.livejournal.com/125977.html), or in both places.


End file.
